Wednesday, 8 November 2017

Blast from the Past: Polly Toynbee vs Gordon Brown

Toynbee vs Brown, round 12! Both in the Red corner. What a love-hate relationship, eh?

This time she's having a go at his new book. "The sadness is that even 10 years later Brown’s old flaws and resentments remain perfectly intact. Couldn’t he have restrained himself from expressing his loathing for Blair?" She's a fine one to talk! - never tires of slagging off Blair, as a cursory search will establish.

But back to the main theme: her bitter disappointment, firstly when Brown supported the war in Iraq, and again when she discovered paradise had not returned to earth in 2007. "The real test surely came with his arrival in No 10. I was among many hoping for a radical shift that never came. Those around him expecting a new blueprint found there was none."

Well, her grasp on facts was never great; but she got that one right. And if we're dusting all this old stuff down again ... with apologies to Mad Carew:

* * * * * * * *

There’s a one-eyed yellow Scotsman of a dour and sullen hueThere’s a stench of pious bullshit all aroundThere’s a broken-hearted woman dreams of socialism trueAnd the yellow Scot forever lets her downHe was known as Red McBroon, and he made the Party swoonThough his cowardice had long begun to smellBut for all he was a wanker he was feted by the bankersAnd Polly Toynbee smiled on him as wellHe’d been stringing her along with his socialism strongShe’d swallowed all he put into her headWhen she judged Blair’s time was short, she said Broon had her supportProvided he would prove himself True RedHe wrote to ask what promise she would like from Red McBroonThey met for lunch as many times beforeAnd fervently she told him then that nothing else would doBut his vote against Blair’s mad Iraqi warOn the night of the debate, Red McBroon was in a state,His followers could bring mad Tony downBut he’d never in his life had the balls to wield the knifeFor he knew the wielder never wears the crownWhen it came to the division, courage gave way to ambitionAnd his scruples failed as surely as his ballsWhen she heard them read the vote, fury welled up in her throatAnd ‘betrayal!’ was her cry around the hallsNow Hell it hath no fury like a jilted Polly ToynbeeFirst Blair and now McBroon had sold his soulAs she stomped off in the night, for her op-ed piece to writeShe vowed vengeance on the yellow Scots arseholeThere’s a one-eyed yellow Scotsman of a dour and sullen hueThere’s a stench of pious bullshit all aroundThere’s a broken-hearted woman dreams of socialism trueAnd the yellow Scot forever lets her down.

Like an emotional adolescent, flickering her eyelids burnished 'coco' glossed red lips, eye liner bleared due to aging skin, crowsfeet running like tree roots about her unsmiling eyes. Snake skin Gucci boots, ha! no daughter of the proletariat was she! All of a flutter, pulling down tight her Che Guevarra Tshirt 'viva la Revolucion'! she shoved her way to the front of the snowflake mob. shirt now clinging, breast heaving in wanton abandon she moued............"ooooh Jezza"